i A1r

British Liberty Established,
and
Gallic Liberty Restored;


or, the
Triumph of Freedom.

A Poem.


Occasioned by the
Grand Revolution in France, 1789M,DCC,LXXXIX.

With a prospect of the glorious time when true religion and civil liberty shall shed their benign influences over the world.

By Maria De Fleury.

London: (From Peterborough-House Press)
Printed for the Author, No. 31, Jewin Street;
and Sold by
J. Matthews, Strand; H.D. Symonds, Pater-Noster-Row;
J. Nott, Lombard Street; Ash, Tower Street;
Thompson, Oxford Road; and by Mrs. Hancock,
Beach Street, Barbican; 1790M,DCC,XC.

ii A1v iii A2r

Select Books On the Dignity and Prerogatives of an Englishman.

  • I.

  • 2.

  • 3.

  • 4.

  • 5.

All ſold by the Bookſellers in the Title Page.

iv A2v v A3r v

The Argument.

Part the First.

An Invocation to the Muſe;—an Addreſs to Britannia;—to Alfred the Great, as the Founder of Engliſh Liberty;— an Alluſion to King John, and the Signing of Magna Charta;—to the Triumphs of England over France, in the Reigns of Edward the Third and Henry the Fifth;— a Congratulatory Addreſs to Britons, from a View of the Privileges they now enjoy, from the excellent Conſtitution of this Country, and the mild Adminiſtration of King George the Third;—an Exhortation to watch over and defend thoſe Privileges;—and an Hymn of Praiſe to God as the Guardian of England.

Part the Second

Commences with a Simile of a Traveller reluctantly leaving Arabia the Happy, to travel through Arabia the Deſart;— a View of the greateſt Part of Europe groaning under Chains of Tyranny and Oppreſſion, and overwhelmed with Ignorance and Popiſh Darkneſs;—which leads to the Celebration of the glorious Revolution in France of 17891789.

Part vi A3v vi

Part the Third.

An Attempt to improve the two former Parts—ſhewing the grand Cauſe of the late Revolution, and the great end to which it leads, from a retroſpective View of the Riſe and Fall of the four great Empires ſpoken of by the Prophet Daniel, and exemplified by Dean Prideaux, Rollin, and Biſhop Newton;—with a Proſpect of the glorious Time when true religion and civil liberty ſhall ſhed their Bleſſings all over the World.

Gallic vii A4r

Preface.

At a time when the great and important events, which have lately taken place, (events ſo intereſting to Mankind in general, and to the Lovers of the Proteſtant Religion and of Civil and Religious Liberty in particular), has fixed the attention, animated the paſſions, and deeply impreſſed almoſt every heart, I flatter myſelf that the following Poem will not be altogether unacceptable to the Public. It was not written with a view to acquire either gain or applauſe; but as the Divine Goodneſs has honoured me with the friendſhip of many moſt reſpectable and valuable perſons, who condeſcend to be pleaſed with the little effuſions of my unworthy pen, it was compoſed to oblige them, and indeed at the particular requeſt of one of them; a requeſt which was the more agreeable to me, as it was entirely ſuited to my inclination; being myſelf of French extraction, I cannot but be deeply intereſted in the great events which have lately taken place in France, although I poſſeſs an Engliſh heart; and therefore the intereſts of my native Country are paricularly dear and valuable to me.――Should this little viii A4v ivviii little piece be ſo highly honoured as to meet the approbation of my friends, I ſhall be happy; ſhould it be any way uſeful to young minds, and have a tendency to impreſs upon them the importance and value of the noble privileges they enjoy as Britons, and have a natural and unalienable right to as men; to inſpire them with generous ſentiments of public ſpirit, and love to their Country; and, above all, with gratitude to the Divine Author and giver of all their bleſſings, and thereby promote, in ſome ſmall degree, the glory of God; my principal deſign in writing will be abundantly anſwered.---I flatter myſelf that the public in general, and thoſe in particular who are pleaſed to honour me with their friendſhip, will ſuffer the propriety of my intention in writing to cover the many improprieties they may diſcover in the Poem; and that they will do me the juſtice to believe, that, if I poſſeſſed the brighteſt genius and greateſt abilities in the world, inſtead of the little half talent God has beſtowed upon me, it would be my higheſt delight to lay them out for the improvement of the riſing generation, and to expreſs my gratitude to my God, my Friends, and my Country.

Maria de Fleury.

The 1 B1r

Gallic Liberty; or, The Triumph of Freedom.

Come, heav’nly Muſe, aſſiſt me while I ſing;

Thy ſweeteſt lyre, thy choiceſt muſic bring:

Come, warm my heart with thy celeſtial fire,

With nobleſt rapture all my ſoul inſpire;

Rapture like her’s Deborah, Judges, Chap. V. who ſung the glorious day

When Sisera became a Woman’s prey;

When Freedom triumph’d, and Jehovah frown’d;

A haughty Tyrant bleeding to the ground.

Freedom’s my theme, to celebrate her name,

O that my lays were equal to my theme!

That I could write with an immortal pen,

And trace, with ſteady eye, the ways of God to Men!

B Britannia, 8 B1v 8

Britannia, hail! thou favour’d Queen of Iſles,

Long kindly foſter’d by thy Maker’s ſmiles!

When riſing firſt from Ocean’s oozy bed,

He bade thee rear aloft thy ſtately head;

Bade thy white cliffs triumphant o’er the main

Through all ſucceeding generations reign.

When from the grave, victorious, Jesus roſe,

Almighty Conqu’ror over mighty foes,

Th’ aſcended Saviour claim’d thee for his own,

An early jewel planted in his crown,

And ſent his everlaſting Goſpel down;

Diſperſt the ſhades of Druid night away,

And fill’d thy happy Iſle with evangelic day.

Then, as his crowning gift, from his right hand

Freedom he ſent, to bleſs this favour’d land;

Britiain be free! he ſaid; and Freedom then

Became the darling Right of Englishmen.

To fix her throne, her ſtandard high to rear,

Behold a long illuſtrious race appear!

Wiſe to deſign, firm to maintain her laws,

To bleed, and die, in Freedom’s ſacred cauſe.

Alfred! if thy great ſoul can yet receive

The tribute which a grateful People give,

Look down, and hear a Nation bleſs thy name,

And conſecrate to thee immortal fame:

Look down, and ſee the Temple, all divine!

Thy Sons erected from thy vaſt deſign;

Thy 9 B2r 9

Thy hands the great foundation laid, and we

Admire the Founder of our Liberty:—

A King! a Father! how rever’d a name?

Go, Kings, and emulate and ſhare the fame!

No more fair Freedom mourns her ruin’d fanes!

No more of barb’rous Gothic rage complains:

In Britiſh breaſts ſee Spartan courage flow,

And Roman virtue in their boſoms glow!

Her ſorrows ceaſe, ſhe, with a placid ſmile,

Claps her bright wings, and in this ſea-girt Iſle

Delights to dwell, forgets her ancient ſeat,

And makes this land of light her lov’d retreat.

See a proud Tyrant, King John. with a crown in view,

O’er blood and fratricide the prize purſue;

See him enthron’d, extend an iron rod

O’er free-born Britons, and intend his nod

To be their law; his ſov’reign will the bound

Of right and wrong.—Is no deliv’rer found?

No Junius Brutus, who will nobly ſtand

The glorious champion of a ſinking land?

Yes; I behold ten thouſand heroes riſe,

I hear their ſhouts, re-echoing, rend the ſkies;

I ſee their banners waving in the air,

The-ſounding trump proclaims, that Britons dare

B2 Defend 10 B2v 10

Defend their ſacred rights thro’ toils and death,

And boaſt of Freedom with their lateſt breath.

O Runnemead! the great historic page

Shall celebrate thy name from age to age!

In diſtant times, the venerable Sire,

Feeling his boſom glow with patriot fire,

Shall tell his Sons of thee, and (pointing) ſay,

Remember, Boys, the memorable day

When here Britannia’s valiant Barons ſtood,

Her nobleſt Sons, determin’d, brave and good;

Their cauſe, the cauſe of juſtice, truth, and law:

The haughty Tyrant trembled when he ſaw

Their gallant hoſt, fear ſtruck the coward pale,

While Heav’n rejoic’d to ſee the Right prevail:

’Twas here, in ſpite of Hell and all her foes,

Fair Freedom triumph’d, Magna Charta roſe.

See Conqueſt, eagle-wing’d, from Heav’n deſcend,

Brittannia’s fleets and armies to attend;

She ſhakes her ſnowy plumes, and calls to arms,

Leading to glory thro’ the dread alarms

Of horrent war.—Gallia, thy fields can tell

How many gallant heroes fought and fell,

To raiſe the honours of the Britiſh name,

And deep engrave it in the liſts of fame.

See 11 B3r 11

See weeping Cressy ſtill lament her day,

And proud Poictiers the victors might diſplay;

See Agincourt immortal laurels bring,

To wreath the brow of England’s youthful King.

No more let mortals truſt in mortal might,

The God of Battles muſt decide the fight;

Let the proud boaſter learn to boaſt no more,

But, with our Henry, wonder and adore.

In vain does Hell and Rome conſpire to pour

Blind papal darkneſs on this happy ſhore;

In vain aſpiring tyrants riſe and rage,

Britain ſhall ſtill be free from age to age.

Heav’n puffs at their deſigns from his high throne,

And, frowning, ſhakes their mighty Babels down;

At the dread ſound of his avenging ire,

A James ſhall abdicate, a Charles expire!

A Cromwell and a William ſhall appear—

(Hail, glorious names! hail, names to Britiain dear!)

And, like an overwhelming whirlwind, ſweep

Deſpotic monſters to their native deep;

While Antichiſt and Tyranny ſhall fall,

And Freedom, British Freedom, triumph over all!

Blest Halcyon days now reign—let Britons ſing,

No more they groan beneath a tyrant King;

No 12 B3v 12

No more they ſmart beneath th’ oppreſſive ſword---

Mild is the ſceptre ſway’d by George the Third! Let it be remembered here, that I write of things in a general point of view. It is to be lamented, that, notwithſtanding the excellence of the Britiſh Conſtitution, notwithſtanding the mild diſpoſition of our preſent Sovereign, yet there exiſt in this Country ſome very arbitrary Courts of Judicature; and there alſo exiſt ſome men of corrupt minds, who, putting their own gloſſes upon good and wholeſome laws, are not aſhamed to deem ſpeaking the Truth libellous; ſo that, even in theſe days of Freedom, there are very reſpectable perſons, loyal ſubjects, pining in an odious priſon with felons and murderers, whoſe only crime is ſpeaking the Truth. When will Engliſh Liberty triumph over theſe oppreſſions?

In her full ſplendor ſacred Truth appears,

And Peace and Plenty crown our happy years.

Late a black cloud o’erhung the Britiſh ſky,

The thunders roll’d, the rattling ſtorm drew nigh,

Britannia’s boſom heav’d the trembling ſigh;

When, lo! her ſun aroſe with cheerful ray,

Shone thro’ the tempeſt, drove the ſhades away;

O’erwhelm’d with joy, ſhe tun’d her voice to ſing

The God whoſe ſov’reign pow’r reſtor’d her King!

Zion too, ſhouted; Zion caught the flame,

And ſung hoſannah to the gracious name

Whoſe condeſcending eye beheld her care,

And gave her much-lov’d Sov’reign to her pray’r.

Long may th’imperial diadem adorn

His royal brow; may George, a Briton born,

Long over free-born Britions live to reign,

To guard their rights, their liberties maintain;

May 13 B4r 13

May he the Father of his People be,

And prove their love, their laws, and liberty,

The firmeſt, beſt ſupporters of his throne.

The choiceſt, brighteſt jewels of his crown,

Say, Muſe, her name, who reigns with ſov’reign ſway

In Britiſh hearts? Record the happy day,

When Charlotte, like the ſun, aroſe to bleſs

And crown a King and People’s happineſs.

Wiſe, great, and good, long may ſhe live to prove

The darling object of three kingdoms’ love;

While big-ſwoln Envy turns aſham’d away,

And Slander’s forked tongue finds not one word to ſay.

Britons rejoice, no chains are forg’d for you,

To break your ſpirit, and your minds ſubdue;

No dreary caves exclude the beauteous light,

And bury heroes in perpetual night;

No Iron cages, no Bastiles ariſe,

To curſe the groaning earth, inſult the ſkies;

No Widows weep, no Orphans mourn in vain

Huſbands and Fathers ſnatch’d away, or ſlain,

By cruel Policy. Here Freedom reigns,

And law and juſtice hold the ſacred reins

Of England’s Government. O Britons raiſe

To heav’n’s high King a monument of praiſe!

Mark well your bleſſings, ſee how high they riſe,

Deep in your hearts record, and learn to prize

The 14 B4v 14

The noble privileges you poſſeſs,

Both civil and religious happineſs:

Inform your children, let the riſing youth

Be taught to ſtudy this important truth;

freedom is ſtill (oppoſe who will or can)

The noble birth-right of an Englishman.

O! hold it faſt, than eaſe, than life more dear,

And bold and wiſe in its defence appear;

Watch o’er your rights, with more than Argus’ eyes,

Leſt force or fraud deſpoil you of the prize;

To diſtant ages, to the end of time,

Hand it unſullied—let this favour’d clime

Long reign the mighty Empreſs of the ſea,

Renown’d for Truth, for Peace, and Liberty.

Let diſtant ages with the preſent join,

To raiſe, in numbers ſweet, a ſong divine;

A ſong of grateful praiſe to Britain’s God,

Who breaks our en’mies with an iron rod;

But ſways a golden ſceptre o’er this land,

And keeps it ſafe in his Almighty hand.

Hail, Britain’s God! Britannia bows to thee,

Thou Sov’reign Author of her Liberty;

’Twas thou diſpell’d the ſhades of papal night,

And ſhed abroad the beams of Goſpel light.

Thy Sov’reign love has made her ſtill thy care,

Thy wrath hath cruſh’d her Tyrants in deſpair;

From 15 C1r 15

From thee her ever-new ſalvation ſprings,

Great Setter-up and Putter-down of kings:

Let earth and ſea conſpire to ſpeak thy praiſe,

Let old and young a ceaſeleſs anthem raiſe;

Let King and People ſwell the triumph high,

And ſhout hoſannahs thro’ the echoing ſky.

And ſtill, oh! ſtill may we enjoy thy ſmile,

Almighty Guardian of this happy Iſle;

O! ſend thy Spirit down to crown thy truth;

Let venerable fires, let blooming youth,

Won by the pow’r of thy victorious word,

To holineſs and happineſs reſtor’d,

Take at a Saviour’s feet their humble place,

The willing ſubjects of Almighty grace:

Let error flee, let truth and justice reign,

Long as Britannia’s compaſs’d with the main;

Let Britiſh hearts ſtill glow with patriot fire,

Till ſun, and moon, and ſtars, and worlds expire.

C Part 16 C1v 16

Part the Second.

From the fair fields of Araby the bleſt,

With ſpicy groves and conſtant verdure dreſt;

Where Nature’s richeſt fruits profusely grow,

And cooling ſtreams in pleaſing murmurs flow;

How the loath trav’ler, with reluctant feet,

Quits the lov’d ſoil, his favourite retreat,

T’ explore the horrors of the wilderneſs,

New ſcenes of woe and multiply’d diſtreſs;

’Midſt burning ſands, where no cool ſprings ariſe,

But oft the fainting trav’ler thirſts and dies;

Where ſavage bands rapacious roam for prey,

And whirlwinds ſweep whole caravans away:

So from the Land of Liberty and Light,

With drooping wing, my Muſe muſt take her flight;

She for a while muſt lay her triumphs by,

And ſing with plaintive voice, and view with weeping eye

O’er mighty realms deep ſhades of night prevail,

Myſterious Babel ſpread her gloomy veil

O’er millions of immortal minds, who lay

Far from the borders of celeſtial day;

Abſorpt in ignorance and ſlaviſh fears,

Thro’ the long period of a thouſand years;

Their gen’rous ſpirit curb’d, their noble fire,

Such as the love of Freedom muſt inſpire;

Quench’d 17 C2r 17

Quench’d by a ſweeping flood, a deluge wild,

Of arbitrary pow’r, chaſing each mild

And amiable virtue far away,

While horrid Tyranny her frowns diſplay.

See the proud purple Deſpot wave his hand,

Th’ important ſignal of ſupreme command;

His will the law of millions; at his nod

They bow and tremble, as a demigod;

He ſhines illuſtrious, thinks a nation born

To ſwell his triumph, and his pomp adorn.

Juſtice and Virtue, from his preſence driv’n,

Quit his domains, and ſeek their native heav’n;

Mercy and Truth retire, and in their ſtead

See treach’rous Falſhood raiſe her hateful head;

Adult’rous Luſt, inſatiate thirſt for gold,

And Rapine her rapacious jaws unfold:

Ambition forms a thouſand plans to riſe,

A thouſand arts employs to gain the prize;

The glitt’ring prize, purſu’d with ardent zeal,

And ev’ry motive, but the public weal,

Attain’d, the giddy pageant of an hour

Baſks in the ſunſhine of a Tyrant’s pow’r;

His ſmile exalts him, but, anon, a frown

Tumbles the wretch and all his honours down.

From age to age this aweful curſe hath ran,

And in the Slave been loſt the rights of Man:

C2 If 18 C2v 18

If e’er a Patriot felt his boſom move

With that great principle, his country’s love,

A noble ſpark of true heroic fire,

And durſt to liberty and truth aſpire,

See priſons riſe, ſee dungeouns ſink for him,

And racks and wheels muſt tear him limb from limb;

While ſilent multitudes their tears ſuppreſs;

Nor dare in ſecret ſighs their grief expreſs,

Leſt keen ſuſpicion, with her jealous eyes,

Should read rebellion in their ſecret ſighs;

Should ſacrifice to political fears,

And in their martyr’s ruin mingle their’s.

Each gen’rous effort of the ſoul to bind,

And rivet fetters on the free-born mind,

A thousand terrors riſe, contriv’d in Hell—

How black, how horrible, what tongue can tell?

O’er hapleſs realms ſtretch out their dark domain,

And in Bastiles and Inquisitions reign.

The mighty bulwarks of deſpotic pow’r,

Where Tyranny enthron’d, with hideous roar,

Darts her grim horrors round a frighted ſtate,

A Nation trembles, cruſh’d beneath the weight;

Proſtrate receives, and patient bears the ſtroke,

And groans ſupine beneath the iron yoke.

Such were thy chains, O Gallia! while the ſun

From age to age his deſtin’d periods run;

While 19 C3r 19

While pow’r deſpotic hurl’d her thunders round,

A thouſand generations felt the wound.

’Tis paſt, the hour is come, the glorious hour,

When France no more ſhall own a Tyrant’s pow’r;

The day appears, the grand illuſtrious day,

Diſperſing night with all her ſhades away.

O come, fair Freedom! daughter of the ſkies,

To thee a Nation lifts their longing eyes;

’Tis thee they invocate, with patriot breath,

Determin’d to be free, or ſleep in death;

Extend thy gracious ſway from ſhore to ſhore,

And reign till ſuns ſhall riſe and ſet no more.

From ſleep, from ſloth awake! (a hero cries)

Ye noble Franks: Echo aloud replies,

From ſleep, from ſloth awake! Shake off your chains,

To dwell with ſlaves fair Liberty diſdains;

She reigns o’er Men. No more ſupinely lay

Hugging your fetters, let your deeds diſplay

The vigour of immortal minds; rouſe, rouſe!

And at fair Freedom’s ſhrine repeat your vows;

Live free, or nobly ſtamp it on your graves;

Awake, ariſe, or be for ever ſlaves!

He ſpake, and thro’ the Nations ſwift it flew—

The Nations heard, the Nations triumph’d too;

With noble zeal, a thouſand tongues repeat

The voice of Heav’n, of Freedom, and Fayette

See 20 C3v 20

See from Americ’s ſhore the Hero come,

And brings a noble band of worthies home;

Perfidious policy had ſent them forth,

They ſtudied Freedom in the hoſtile North.

Now ſafely landed on their native ſhore,

They muſt be free, they will be ſlaves no more;

While gen’rous Britons ſcorn a mean revenge,

And leave their wrongs for Heaven to avenge.

Exulting see the Gallic heroes come,

And bring the ſweets of Britiſh Freedom home;

They ſaw in Freedom’s cauſe her Sons expire,

And, lo! their boſoms caught the gen’rous fire;

They ſee their Country bound in ſlaviſh chains,

They ſee her bleeding at a thouſand veins;

Their hearts expand with noble zeal to ſave,

Or in her ruins form themſelves a grave.

Let France awake to Freedom! (Fayette cries);

Let France awake! around the Nation flies;

Winds waft the voice afar, and who’s ſo bound

In ſlaviſh fetters, not to hear the ſound?

What heart ſo ſpiritleſs, ſo ſunk in fears,

As not to glow with ardour when he hears

The call to Liberty? The noble fire

Catches from heart to heart; the hoary Sire,

And ruddy Boy, alike its rays inſpire:

They hear! they ſtart! they come! fair Freedom’s call

Revives the ſpirit of the ancient Gaul;

The ſleeping Lion’s rous’d, he paws the ground,

He ſhakes his mane, his eye darts lightning round.

Let 21 C4r 21

Let Tyrants tremble, while his awful roar

Confuſion flings on arbitrary pow’r;

To eaſtern climes let deſpotiſm flee,

European boſoms pant for Liberty;

An injur’d People claim the rights of men,

A mighty good, well bought with preſent pain;

Heav’n looks propitious down, reſolv’d to bleſs

And crown the glorious ſtruggle with ſucceſs.

From Eaſt and Weſt, from North and South, behold

A band of worthies come; in war not bold

Alone to execute, but wiſe to plan

And model laws of Empire worthy Man.

On every brow deliberation ſits,

And public care and prudence, as befits

The Senate of a mighty Nation, met

To form anew, and organize the State.

Zeal gives their councils life, while caution wards

A thouſand dangers, circumſpection guards

(A faithful centinel) their country’s love,

The noble ſpring which all their actions move.

See love to Freedom every heart inſpire,

See every boſom glow with warm deſire,

To break their Country’s chains, and ſet her free,

To taſte the golden fruits of well-earn’d Liberty.

Hail, Patriots! hail! th’ aſtoniſh’d world admire,

And catch a ſpark of your heroic fire;

From heart to heart it runs, from land to land,

And kingdoms big with expectation ſtand,

To 22 C4v 22

To ſee the glorious day when France ſhall be

Emancipate from chains and ſlavery;

When the foundation which your wiſdom laid,

Solid and firm, in equal poiſes weigh’d,

Shall in a noble ſuperſtructure riſe,

And Freedom’s glorious temple greet the ſkies;

When Tyrants baniſh’d from the realms of day,

And lawleſs rule for ever ſwept away,

Gallia no more ſhall under bondage groan,

But boaſt a Conſtitution like our own. The Britiſh.

Then ſhall the monumental braſs declare

Who the great Fathers of their Country were;

Who dar’d ſtand forth in the important hour,

And reſcue France from arbitrary pow’r:

Your Sons ſhall tell their Children—they ſhall own,

And make your names to unborn ages known:

Go on then, Heroes, may a hand divine

Direct, complete, and crown the grand deſign.

Nor theſe alone, tho’ pillars of the State,

In wiſdom, council, erudition great;

The noble ardour runs from ſoul to ſoul,

Breathes in each part, and animates the whole.

The artizan lays his mechanics by

In Freedom’s cauſe, his ſkill in arms to try;

Students forget their books, Merchants their gains,

Self-love expires, and Public Spirit reigns.

See 23 D1r 23

See Huſbandmen forſake the plough, and ſtand

Renowned champions for their native land,

Like Rome’s fam’d Cincinatus. A famous Roman General. See Rollin’s Ancient Hiſtory. Old and young

Around their Country’s glorious ſtandard throng;

While thoſe, by palſied limbs forbid to come,

Chain’d by diſeaſe to an ignoble home,

Pant for the field, and bid their ſons ariſe,

And nobly die, or win the darling prize.

The martial bands, long train’d to war and arms,

Inur’d to fierce Bellona’s dread alarms;

The ſcourge of Freedom, Tyrants hope and boaſt,

Whoſe ſceptre’s guarded by an armed hoſt,

Not by their ſubjects love—Shall theſe oppoſe

And meet their Fathers and their Sons as foes,

And plant their daggers in their Contry’s breaſt?

Their wretched Country, long with ills oppreſt!

Now, when a great ſalvation’s near in view,

Shall theſe, her cruel Sons, their hands embrue

In her deliv’rers blood? Oh! no; the fire

Of patriot zeal their manly breaſts inſpire;

Their noble legions ſhout for Liberty,

And ſwear that Gallia henceforth ſhall be free.

Nor is the love of Liberty confin’d,

Or martial ardour, to the manly mind;

In Female boſoms ſee the flame ariſe,

Glow in their hearts, and ſparkle in their eyes:

With Amazonian courage, lo! they quit

Domeſtic trifles, and the ſtill retreat,

D For 24 D1v 24

For noiſe and buſtle, all the din of war,

Where wounds and terrors, death and dangers are;

To curb the bounding ſteed, to wield the ſpear,

And all the thunders of the fight to hear.

This is thy triumph, ſacred Liberty;

Women and Priests, inſpir’d by love of thee,

Lay by their weakneſs and timidity;

They ſhine in arms, and let the Nations know

They ſhun no danger, and they fear no foe.

Thus bold, thus firm, when a whole People riſe,

Breathing one ſpirit, valiant, ardent, wiſe,

What can reſiſt?—The mighty torrent ſweeps

Guilt and Oppreſſion to their native deeps;

Plucks Uſurpation from her ancient throne,

And all the tools of Deſpotiſm down:

While Virtue, Law, and Juſtice, once again

Call’d to new life, begin their happy reign.

No more a long inſulted People feel

The fearful terrors of a proud Bastile;

Awak’d to vengeance, lo! their fury pours

Deſerv’d deſtruction on thoſe hated tow’rs;

The bellowing cannon ſhake the horrid walls—

Hark! with a mighty craſh, the wide-ſpread ruin falls.

Welcome, ye wretches, long inur’d to lay

In chains and darkneſs, where no glimm’ring ray,

No cheerful beam of heav’nly light appears,

Condemn’d to pine away the tedious years

In 25 D2r 25

In night, in damps, in all the depths of woe,

Where no ſoft ſoothing rills of comfort flow;

Welcome! oh! welcome to the new-found day!

Fair Freedom comes to wipe your tears away,

To burſt your chains, to bid you live again,

And taſte the balmy bleſſings of her reign!

Freedom for you a patriot People won,

Riſe from your dungeons and enjoy the ſun.

Hail, Gallia! may thy noble Sons go on,

And crown the work they have ſo well begun;

Wiſe, bold, and ſteady, may they perſevere,

Knit in firm union, and unmov’d by fear;

Riſing ſuperior to ſurrounding foes,

Till Peace, ſweet Peace, ſhall all her charms diſcloſe,

And the rude horrors of the ſtorm compoſe.

Then ſhall your noble toil be richly crown’d,

Commerce and Plenty ſhedding bleſſings round;

While Juſtice, Virtue, Truth, a ſacred train,

Offspring of Liberty, ſhall riſe and reign

To diſtant ages, and enroll the name

Of this grand æra in the liſts of fame;

Your free-born Sons ſhall guard their happy realm,

And future Neckars riſe to guide the helm.

Fir’d by the great example, ſee it flies

Swift as a darting meteor thro’ the ſkies;

The noble conteſt ſpreads from ſhore to ſhore,

Men feel their rights, and will be ſlaves no more;

D2 The 26 D2v 26

The Belgic legions rouſe, and call to arms;

Germanic cities ſhake with rude alarms;

Caſtillian boſoms feel the riſing flame,

They lift their hopes to Heav’n, from whence it came,

And ſigh for Liberty.—From Heav’n’s high King

Fair Freedom comes, deſcending with ſwift wing,

To crown the brave.—Hark! Despotism groans,

And Tyrants tremble on their tott’ring thrones;

Pale Superstition droops with panic fear,

She feels and mourns her diſſolution near;

The ſhades retire, the welcome morning ray

Proclaims the glad approach of heav’nly day.

Go on then, heroes, may your boſoms feel

Encreaſing ardour for the public weal;

May prudent Councils guide your grand deſigns,

And Reſolution arm your gen’rous minds.

Firm, wiſe, and valiant, to maintain your laws,

He nobly dies who dies in Freedom’s cauſe.

Where’er the ſun beholds a Nation bound

In chains ignoble, may the glorious ſound

Of your high deeds with emulation fire

Each virtuous Youth, each venerable ſire,

Till from the earth deſpotic ſway be driv’n,

And Truth and Freedom, eldeſt-born of Heav’n,

Erect their banners high the world around,

Triumphant over all, with conqueſt crown’d.

Then ſhall ſweet Peace her ſofteſt bleſſings bring,

The free-born Muſe ſhall tune her choiceſt ſtring,

And Heav’n and earth ſhall one grand chorus ſing.

Part 27 D3r 27

Part the Third.

While round the world the rude alarms of war,

Diſcordant, ſounds with harſh ungrateful jar;

From realm to realm the ſtrange commotion flies,

And the hoarſe trump ſalutes the echoing ſkies:

Waving the ſpear of death, with horrors crown’d,

The dæmon of deſtruction ſtalks around;

Ten thouſand terrors march on either hand,

And Deſolation flies from land to land

Cloſe in his rear, while Empires riſe and fall,

And change and Revolution threaten all—

Come thou, my ſoul, and in the land of peace,

Where Freedom reigns, improve the hour of eaſe;

To the lone cot retire, the humble cell,

Where ſweet content and meditation dwell;

There liſten to the noiſy clang of war,

And view the horrors of the ſtorm from far;

And aſk from whence theſe awful wonders riſe,

That ſhake the affrighted earth, and rend the ſkies

With fierce convulſions?—Whence the ſecret ſprings

That move and actuate all created things?—

The hand that guides, the eye that views the whole,

Of this great Universe, the mighty Soul,

Diſpoſing all events?—Or do they flow

From chance? Is chance great arbiter below?

Do 28 D3v 28

Do all things wait upon the will of Kings?

Are earth’s proud potentates ſuch mighty things,

That with a frown they can a world embroil,

And huſh the tumult with their magic ſmile?

By Man’s proud will are crowns and ſceptres hurl’d,

And like a plaything toſs a frighted world?

Lo! from the ſkies deſcends a heav’nly ray,

Bright with the ſplendours of celeſtial day,

Beyond a thouſand ſuns, my doubts to clear,

Illume my mind and diſſipate my fear—

Hail, Revelation! ſource of ſacred light,

Thy glorious beams diſpelling mental night,

The grand inquiry ſolves—all, all is right.

Jehovah reigns, let Heav’n and earth adore,

Let angels bow, let mortals boaſt no more;

But low in duſt with awful wonder fall,

And own Jehovah-Jesus Lord of all.

He reigns triumphant, let his people ſing,

Zion rejoice, and glory in her King;

High on his Holy Hill he reigns ſupreme,

Let univerſal Nature worſhip him.

When from rude chaos, and the womb of night,

His potent fiat call’d celeſtial light,

And bade a univerſe of wonders riſe,

Fixt the firm earth, and ſpread the ſtarry ſkies;

His mighty mind then fixt the periods ſure,

Earth’s future riſing Empires ſhould endure;

The grand reſolves of his infinite mind

Time brings to view, eternity deſign’d—

Still 29 D4r 29

Still King of Kings and Lord of Lords he reigns,

And, uncontroul’d, his ſov’reign right maintains;

Rules over all, ſupreme diſpoſer ſtill,

And worketh all things as his righteous will

Determines. Clouds and darkneſs mark his way,

The whirlwind and the ſtorm a God diſplay;

Divine perfection ſhines in all his ways,

Almighty power and ſtupendous grace;

Wiſdom and juſtice, truth and ſmiling love,

Direct his councils, all his actions move.

Of all the creatures, all the worlds he made,

The government is on his ſhoulders laid;

In vain does Hell and human pride combine

His grand deſigns by their’s to countermine.

They boaſt in vain, he reigns triumphant ſtill,

His arm of ſtrength ſhall execute his will;

The rage of Hell and human pride ſhall join

As engines to fulfil his great deſign—

That muſt prevail, and, whatſoe’er oppoſe,

No diſappointment, no prevention knows.

See proud Aſſyrian Monarchs ſhake the world,

See their wide Empire into darkneſs hurl’d;

A lofty throne the Medo-Perſian rears,

Till fierce in arms the conqu’ring Greek appears:

He like a meteor ſhines, the ſudden blaze

Strikes the affrighted earth with dread amaze;

Lo! he diſſolves in air, his train expires,

And Roman boſoms catch his falling fires.

Imperial 30 D4v 30

Imperial Rome, before whoſe potent ſway

Kings veil their glories, Empires fade away;

It roſe, it ſhone awhile, in ſplendor bright;

It ſunk, it fell, o’erwhelm’d with Gothic night.

But ſee a nobler Monarchy ariſe,

Spread o’er the earth, and ſhoot beyond the ſkies;

An everlaſting kingdom, which ſhall know

No diſſolution, but ſhall riſe and grow

To boundleſs domination, and endure

When ſuns and moons ſhall riſe and ſet no more.

This Daniel ſung, Daniel, 7th Chap. See Rollin’s Ancient Hiſtory, and Biſhop Newton’s Diſſertations on the Prophecies. when, with enlighten’d eyes,

He ſaw the great Prophetic Viſion riſe;

Four mighty beaſts from out the raging main

Succeſſive riſe, ſucceſſive fall and reign.

To Babel’s haughty Builder this was ſhewn—

In dreams of night he ſaw the myſtic ſtone

Cut without hands, earth’s wide dimenſions fill,

Subduing all things to his ſov’reign will;

Extending boundleſs ſway from ſhore to ſhore,

When death, and ſin, and time, ſhall be no more.

Firm as the throne of God, his great decrees

Shall ſtand, and changeleſs as his nature is;

His Scriptures make his mighty purpoſe known,

The hidden ſecrets of th’ eternal throne

To Man revealing; while his arm of pow’r,

O’erruling all things, in the appointed hour,

Fulfils 31 E1r 31

Fulfils the grand Prediction, and diſplays

A God of Vengeance, or a God of Grace.

His Providence fulfils his great deſigns,

In and thro’ all immenſe Perfection ſhines—

When thus he owns his truth by ſov’reign pow’r,

Earth ſhakes, Hell trembles, and the Heav’ns adore.

Be ſtill, then, O my ſoul! Jehovah reigns,

And all is well, for all thy God ordains;

Tho’ tumult and diſtraction roar around,

All ſhall with ſweet tranquillity be crown’d—

All ſhall exalt the glories of thy God,

His golden ſceptre, and his iron rod;

Shall raiſe the honours of thy Saviour’s name,

And thro’ a wond’ring world ſhall ſpread Messiah’s fame.

See in impervious ſhades the Nations ſit,

Black glooms aſcending from the ruthleſs pit;

In papal darkneſs bury half the world,

The bloody flag of Antichriſt unfurl’d;

While thro’ long ages, ſee the Kingdoms join

T’ erect his throne, and ſtamp him half divine,

And in God’s holy place the idol beaſt inſhrine.

But, lo! ’tis written, Antichriſt ſhall fall,

Earthquake and fire conſume and ſwallow all

His boaſted glories, thunderbolts of wrath

Shall drive him head-long from the groaning earth

To fathomleſs perdition, there to weep

And howl for ever in the boiling deep.

E The 32 E1v 32

Th’ enlighten’d Kingdoms ſhall unite their pow’r,

Shall hate and deſolate the ſcarlet whore;

No more her vaſſals, they ſhal riſe and ſing

Salvation to the everlaſting King,

Who reigns o’er Heav’n and Earth with ſov’reign ſway,

And bleſs him for a glorious Goſpel-day.

Big with the joyful hope, the glad’ning Muſe

Looks round, with cheerful eye the proſpect views;

The preſent proſpect, ſees a hand divine

In all the great events of eighty-nine;

She ſees Jehovah riding on the ſtorm,

His word and gracious purpoſe to perform;

He ſpeaks, ’tis done; the ſlumb’ring Nations rouſe,

They pant for Liberty, and pay their vows

At Freedom’s altar. Here the work begins,

The dawn appears, the welcome morning ſhines,

Of an illuſtrious day. Come, ſtretch thy wing,

My vent’rous Muſe; come ſoar aloft, and ſing

Of future wonders, which ſhall ſoon ſurpriſe

Th’ aſtoniſh’d earth, and fill th’ adoring ſkies

With Hallelujahs. May the Muſe preſume,

With ſacred awe, to ſing of things to come?

She may; her hand divine prediction holds,

The word of truth futurity unfolds;

She leans by faith on that unerring guide,

No failing prop, no fluctuating tide,

But 33 E2r 33

But ſolid rock, firm baſis. With one eye

She views the earth; the other, lifted high,

Pierces thro’ all things to th’ eternal throne,

Of him who calls ten thouſand worlds his own:

She ſees his pow’r fulfil his word, and then

May ſafely ſing of future times to Men.

See from the ſkies ſweet Liberty deſcend,

The Nations hope, the groaning captive’s friend,

To bleſs the world, to bid the exile come,

The mourning exile to his long-loſt home:

But not alone ſhe comes, a heav’nly ray,

A beam of radiance from the ſource of day,

Shines round her ſteps; no more ſhall fetters bind,

And chains of darkneſs hold th’ immortal mind.

Truth, like an angel, wings her way from Heav’n,

The beſt, nobleſt gift to mortals giv’n;

Before her pow’rful beams, ſee, Error flies,

And vanquiſh’d Superſtition faints and dies.

Down from his throne, where long exalted higher

Than all on earth call’d God, doom’d to expire,

Antichriſt, like a falling ſtar, deſcends,

Swept from his ſeat, his proud dominion ends;

While Truth aſſumes the chair, divinely bright,

Her ſunlike glories diſſipate the night;

Millions, who ſat in darkneſs, bleſs the rays,

Riſe from the gloom, and ſing triumphant grace.

E2 The 34 E2v 34

The glorious day draws near, on Time’s ſwift wing

It comes, when Sion’s everlaſting King

Shall make his pow’rful arm and wonders known,

And claim the diſtant Kingdoms for his own.

Th’ enlighten’d Eaſt ſhall ſcorn Mahomet’s name,

Charm’d by the ſplendor of Emmanuel’s fame;

Shall throw aſide their Alcoran as droſs,

The ſilver creſcent bowing to the croſs;

Shall bind his Goſpel to their raptur’d breaſt,

And own him God o’er all, for ever bleſt;

From North to South he ſhall extend his ſway,

And long-loſt Israel ſhall his call obey;

Fall at his feet, renouncing legal pride,

And glory in a Saviour crucified.

Then ſhall fair Fredom rear her throne on high,

And mortals prove the joys of Liberty;

Not bodies only, but th’ immortal mind,

In chains, by Sin and Satan, long confin’d

Shall from their dread captivity be freed—

Freed by the Son, they muſt be free indeed.

The Goſpel’s ſilver trump proclaims the day

Of free ſalvation; ſee the lawful prey

Snatch’d from the dragon’s jaws, by ſov’reign grace,

To dwell ſecure in all the ſweets of peace;

Slaves from their iron bondage call’d, ariſe

To ſhare the noble freedom of the ſkies;

Exult in privileges freely given,

And triumph as the Citizens of Heav’n.

Then 35 E3r 35

Then ſhall the ſeventh trumpet’s glorious ſound

Alarm the ſkies, and ſhake the trembling ground;

Angelic voices ſhall their ſongs prepare,

To uſher in the grand Sabbatic year—

With burſts of loud applauſe, they ſing to thee,

And ſhout thy fame, incarnate Deity!

Exult, ye Heav’ns! with mighty joy (they cry)

Swell the glad triumphs of your King on high;

With Hallelujahs compaſs round his throne,

In ſolemn anthems make his wonders known:

For the Lord God Omnipotent appears

In robes of majeſty; the crown he wears,

And reigns o’er all ſupreme, high rears his throne,

And calls the Kingdoms of the earth his own;

They bow to Jesu’s ſceptre, and adore;

He reigns, and he ſhall reign for ever more.

Juſt are thy judgments, mighty King; thy pow’r

Hath pour’d deſtruction on the ſcarlet whore;

Thy truth ſhall triumph, and thy Goſpel ſpread,

Till time ſhall ceaſe, and Death itſelf is dead.

Then, at thy potent word, diſſolv’d in fire,

The Heav’ns ſhall melt, the Univerſe expire:

But from its aſhes ſee a phœnix riſe,

An unpolluted earth, and purer ſkies;

Where dwelleth righteouſneſs, there Saints ſhall ſing

The matchleſs triumphs of their matchleſs King;

There perfect holineſs, and perfect peace,

Shall fill their boſoms with conſumate bliſs;

Their 36 E3v 36

Their God their temple, ſun, and great reward,

And they the ranſom’d People of the Lord.

While Heav’n and Earth ſhall ſing triumphant grace,

In one grand chorus of eternal praise.

This is the ſong of Heav’n; but Saints below

Catch the glad theme, intenſe deſires flow

In Sion’s boſom for the happy day,

When ſin and ſorrow ſhall be done away;

She longs to ſee her Saviour’s name ador’d,

And all the Nations call her Jesus Lord;

She longs to ſee his chariot wheels appear,

His regal enſign flaming in the air,

At his right hand to take her pompous place,

And ſee her Heaven in his ſmiling face.

In that great day, how ſhall his foes appear?

Struck dumb with terror and appall’d with fear!

The rich, the poor, the tyrant, and the ſlave,

Call’d from their ſilent ſlumbers in the grave,

Before Messiah’s bar to ſtand, and hear

His awful lips their final doom declare.

Proud Unbelief ſhall ſtop her mouth, and ſee

The Man who died upon th’ accurſed tree

In all the ſplendours of a God ſhine forth,

And groan beneath the vengeance of his wrath.

All who refuſe his golden ſceptre’s ſway,

Cruſh’d by his rod in that tremenduous day,

Shall 37 E4r 37

Shall hear the gentle Lamb’s meek voice no more;

But Judah’s Lion, with his awful roar,

Their ſouls transfixing in eternal woe,

Nor can they fly, or from his preſence go.

In vain to rocks and hills they call for aid,

The falling mountains can afford no ſhade;

Amidſt diſſolving worlds no ſafety’s found,

The Heav’ns depart, and all is horror round;

Fierce lightnings, iſſuing from the burning throne,

Drive the accurſed crew of rebels down,

To dwell with black Deſpair, to howl and weep

Eternal ages in the fiery deep!

O think of this in time, ye Sons of Men!

Leſt ye repent too late, and tremble then,

When awful Juſtice ſhuts Compaſſion’s door,

And Mercy, meek-ey’d Mercy, reigns no more.

The Spirit and the waiting Bride ſay, Come;

O come, Redeemer, from thy heav’nly home!

Come in thy kingdom of Almighty Grace,

Come and receive us to thy ſweet embrace!

Thy Dove, that wanders in the wilderneſs,

Longs to put on her glorious marriage dreſs;

From thy kind hand to take the promis’d crown,

And humbly at thy footſtool lay it down:

She ſighs for thee, ſhe longs to tune her lyre,

And join her ſongs with the ſeraphic choir;

To 28 E4v 28

To raiſe her joyful notes, their notes above,

And ſing the wonders of redeeming love;

Worthy the Lamb, the Lamb for Sinners ſlain,

To fill his Father’s throne, and ever reign;

While Saints and Angels ſing immortal praiſe,

And view his glories thro’ eternal days!

The End.